Word Wenches

Whisper of Scandal

Hi, this is Jo, delighted to interview Wench Nicola about her exciting new novel.

Jane Austen in the Arctic! No, not quite, but....

Nicola, Whisper of Scandal is a lovely book, but also unusual. The phrase "Joanna and Alex travel to the Arctic" certainly isn't run-of-the-mill Regency. I read on your web site that you like to seek unusual settings for your books. Why Arctic Exploration? How did that come to the front of your creative mind?

Thank you, Jo! Yes, I love incorporating different and unusual elements into my Regency historicals but I think that in writing a Regency romance set in London and the Arctic I almost went off the dial! Normally I have the idea for a character or characters first. Background and setting is seldom the prime inspiration for a book for me. This time though it was the other way around.

I travelled to Spitsbergen, which is an island to the north of Norway, and as soon as I saw the island I felt a very strong urge to set a book there. So I started researching the history of Spitsbergen and of Arctic exploration in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and I soon realised that the whole subject made a fascinating backdrop. 

The early nineteenth century was a period of serious scientific expedition and exploration of the Arctic from Britain and mainland Europe. There were also a great many resourceful and intrepid Navy officers seeking to be the first to find a trade route through the North East Passage. The records of the expeditions underlined how dangerous these voyages were. Horatio Nelson allegedly wrestled a polar bear on one such trip!

I believe you went on an Arctic cruise. Research can be so painful! Tell us a little about it. (I'm not sure if the map is of the same cruise, but it gives an idea of the geography.)

Yes, research can be tough! No, really, I had a fabulous time!

We were travelling on a converted ice-breaker and there were only 50 of us on the cruise so it was very personal and intimate. Our guides were experts in the history, natural history and geography of Spitsbergen.

  It was the most extraordinary experience: twenty four hour daylight, watching polar bears in their natural habitat, visiting the site of the 17th century Battle of Sorgfjord, the most northernmost sea battle, seeing the huge early 19th century crosses used both for religious purposes and for navigation… oh, and downing vodka shots with the Russian crew, though not whilst they were on duty negotiating the ice, of course!

(Jo makes notes for future travel.) Readers ask for unusual settings and elements, but sometimes publishers want the same-old. Did you experience any resistance to this idea?

My editor was very excited by the idea right from the start. The only change that HQN suggested was that the story should start in London to anchor it in the Regency period for readers. Originally I had intended the entire book to take place in the Arctic but I could see that this would make it stronger and give it more scope, especially as my heroine, Lady Joanna Ware, is the darling of London society and has absolutely no concept of the hardships a voyage to Spitsbergen will entail.

An Arctic sea voyage certainly gave you plenty of scope for action and adventure, as well as the delicious element of a group trapped in close confines. It was a great way to develop the challenging marriage between Lady Joanna and Alex. Was that part of the plan, or was it a gift element?

It wasn’t part of the plan at all, at least not to start. My first draft had the book in two parts, one set before the voyage and one after, because I didn’t really want to write any scenes aboard the ship! My editor then pointed out how much potential I would be wasting if I did this.

She was right of course. Not only did the shipboard scenes throw Joanna and Alex into close proximity but they also gave me the chance to develop some of the other characters, and to draw on the Arctic background to drive the plot as well.

The scene where Alex and his cousin Dev have to cut the ship out of the ice that has encircled it is a very dramatic scene that was based – almost – on our own real life experience. Our ship became trapped in the ice for about an hour but because we had motor power we were able to escape. It’s a common problem when the wind changes suddenly and the sea ice piles up. In a sailing vessel you wouldn’t be as lucky as we were.
 
Here's one of Nicola's photos of the beautiful Spitzbergen landscape. Remember, you can click on any picture to see it full size.

You have a rich cast of characters on board with them. Which is your favorite from the secondaries on board ship? No, I don't think you can pick Max the dog.*G*

Naturally Max the dog is my favourite but if I can’t choose him… Well, it’s difficult. I love creating my secondary characters and I love building the world that all my characters inhabit. I have a very soft spot for Owen Purchase, the gorgeous American captain of the Sea Witch. I don’t mind admitting that Owen was based on someone I met on another cruise I took out of San Diego in California! Owen gets his own book later in the series.

That will make a lot of readers happy!

I also had a lot of fun creating Lottie, Joanna’s best friend, because I do enjoy writing bad girls and Lottie is very bad indeed. And then of course I had to try to redeem her in the next book in the series!

I'm sure that will be fun. What's the title, and what unusual element will her book bring in?

The title is One Wicked Sin and it will be out in November.

The background to that book is unusual in a different way. It draws on the experience of prisoners of war in Britain during the Napoleonic Wars. This seems to me to be a very neglected aspect of British history. There were thousands of officers who were held prisoner in small towns throughout Britain during the period for the 1750s to 1814. They were allowed parole, the freedom of the town, provided that they did not break the terms of the agreement.

For example they weren’t allowed to travel more than a mile beyond the town boundaries and there was a curfew at night. And of course they had to give their word that they would not try to escape. It was extraordinary to me that there were thousands of foreign prisoners – not just French but American, Dutch, Danish, Irish and many more – wandering around these little towns. Their presence must have had a profound effect on the population (some of them even married local girls) and yet there are very few records of them.

So I thought it would be interesting to write an Irish hero who has been fighting for the French because he shares the same republican ideals, and put him in one of these provincial English towns and have him plotting treason whilst having a hot affair with Lottie to cover his treasonable activities!

That sounds like great fun. Wish I'd thought of it!

The first three books in the Scandalous Women of the Ton series all have unusual backgrounds or elements and they have all been a pleasure to write. Whilst I may not always go as far afield as the Arctic to introduce unusual elements into my books they will all have some sort of twist that introduces something different!

Thank you, Nicola, for opening our eyes to fascinating aspects of the Regency.

Everyone, you can read an excerpt from Whisper of Scandal here.

And if you're keen to nibble at One Wicked Sin, too, you can find it here.

Now, someone will win a lovely prize here -- the first two books of the Scandalous Women series. All you have to do is answer this question from Nicola.

"Nineteenth century sailors on the Arctic expeditions were expected to be able to play three musical instruments, act in theatricals, sew, mend sails, nets and boots and be fit enough to run around the ship for two hours a day. If you were stranded in the ice for the winter how would you pass your
time?"

Added to this later -- if we assume that we all have a stock of our favourite books, plus some exciting new ones, what would you want to be able to do in addition to reading? Try to catch fish? Brush up your artistic skills? Learn to quilt with that handy stash of fabric, thread and needles? Become a deadly shot with a bow and arrow? Learn Norwegian? All ideas welcome!

Have at it! The winner will be picked by Nicola on Friday, 1st October.

Jo

PS -- I'll be blogging about this in a couple of weeks, but a head-up. The reissue of Emily and the Dark Angel will be out in a few days. A classic "good girl and the rake" story, but with many twists.

Interview with Jeannie Lin

Pat here. It’s my pleasure to introduce you to Jeannie Lin, whose historical romantic adventures set in Tang Dynasty China have readers, reviewers, and writers all abuzz. She’s a 2009 Golden-heart finalist, a high school teacher with a love of legends, epic fantasy, and martial art fiction. Her short story, The Taming of Mei Lin from Harlequin Historical Undone was released September 1.  Check out excerpts and reviews at http://www.jeannielin.com/
 

1.  How did you start writing?  Were you making up stories in kindergarten with a pencil clutched in one chubby fist, or did you come to the trade later?

Ha! The fat blue pencil is actually something I remember fondly. The one without an eraser; and boy did I need an eraser. That’s me to this day. I feel like I revise more than I write.

Walk down memory lane aside, my mother always wanted to be a writer. She told us stories of how her dream was to teach during the school year and write during the summers. I think because of her, I always thought of writing as a dream job.

 

2.  How did you become interested in writing historical novels?

My best friend introduced me to historical romance. We would borrow books from her mother’s shelves. She gravitated toward the westerns while I adored Johanna Lindsey. I loved historicals for the feeling of being transported. If I’m daydreaming about the contemporary world, my thoughts stray back to my job, my commute, my life. If I daydream in a historical setting, the ideas could become a little bit bigger than me and what I had experienced firsthand.

3. What drew you to writing romance in particular?

I had tried writing stories—usually science fiction or fantasy ones with either some little twist or some big adventure. I realized that I didn’t have characters anyone would care about. They were puppet slaves to my hooks and premises.

The books that made me feel the most for the characters were romances. That’s what I wanted in my writing so I tried it. Magically, everything started coming together. There was a reason for characters to be doing things and adventures to be happening.   

4.  What was the biggest mistake you made when you first began writing?

There’s a reason you shouldn’t be allowed to have an eraser until the second grade. My biggest mistake was rewriting the first chapters. I kept trying to apply things I’d learned and rewrite the opening over and over. My mentor kept on telling me to write forward. When I finally finished the first book two years later, I understood why. By cycling around the same chapters, I wasn’t growing as a writer. Sure, I could polish, but I was polishing crap. Crap can only get so shiny.

5.  What do you consider key elements of a great story?

This is tough. I think the key elements are character and the X-factor. I can follow great characters through a bland plot. The X-factor is that feeling that I can’t get this anywhere else. I can’t get this from watching TV or from reading any other author. I can’t get this feeling of being in this time and place any other way. I must read this book because there’s nothing else like it.

6.  Are there any trends you hope to see in romance in the next few years?

I would love to see “smart bodice rippers”. Some of the feel of the good stuff from the 80s and 90s, but modernized. Uber-alpha men who are a bit on the insufferable scoundrel side, but matched with a heroine who can hold her own against him. I guess I don’t feel as swept away sometimes by modern romance. It’s like we’re being too safe. I want to read some wild, breathless romance again with sweeping historical settings. And I want to feel like I’m being a little naughty reading it.

   

7.  What is the best part about being a writer?  The most frustrating?

The best part: I love it all. I love the brainstorming and revising and the agony it takes to finally make the book look like something someone might read. This may be a bad time to ask me. I have adrenaline and endorphins rushing through me due to the upcoming debut.

I suppose waiting for news is the most frustrating. Nothing moves as fast as you want it to.

8. Would you like to tell us a little about your book?

Butterfly Swords is set in 8th century Tang Dynasty. It’s a historical fantasy or alternative history that brings medieval swordsmen across the Silk Road into the Chinese empire. The heroine, Ai Li, is a sword-wielding princess who escapes from a pre-arranged marriage when she believes her warlord husband-to-be is a traitor. She meets up with a western barbarian and they team up to try to get her safely back to the capital.
The hero is a reluctant one. He’s dealing with the guilt of leading his men into an ambush. Stranded in a strange land, he takes on the task of protecting Ai Li as a way to redeem himself. And of course they start falling for each other.
The whole thing was so exhilarating to write. I hope people have as much fun reading it.
 
--------------------------
Jeannie Lin’s Golden Heart award-winning novel, Butterfly Swords, will be released October 1 from Harlequin Historical. It received 4-stars from Romantic Times Reviews—“The action never stops, the love story is strong and the historical backdrop is fascinating.”

Join the launch celebration at http://www.butterfly-swords.com for giveaways and special features. Visit Jeannie online at: http://www.jeannielin.com

Jeannie will be giving away a copy of The Butterfly Swords to a random commenter, so please, welcome Jeannie, and send questions her way. 

Ciji Ware: Honorary Word Wench!

by Mary Jo

It is our Wenchly custom to induct our guests into Honorary Word Wenchdom, as well as bestowing a virtual gift to delight the heart without damaging the wenchly purse. <G>  For telling us about Wicked Company, your wondrous tale of the Georgian theater and female playwrights, I am offering you a Georgian theater of your very own.  Jo Beverley suggested the Georgian Theatre Royal in Richmond, Yorkshire.  Since sometimes actors and theater people found it wise to leave London for a time, this would be a perfect retreat:

 
Feel free to bring your player friends here to block out a new production, Ciji! And in the future, you may style yourself as Ciji Ware, HWW.

Mary Jo

Guests Jeannie Lin and Nicola Cornick

JEANNIE LIN: 

Award-winning author Jeannie Lin will be Patricia Rice's guest on Monday, September 27.  Jeannie brings the drama and sensuality of the Tang Dynasty to life in tales of honor, romance, and adventure. Jeannie’s lifelong love of historical romance and the martial arts genre bring the Golden Age of China alive in her stories.

NICOLA CORNICK: 

On Wednesday, September 29, Jo Beverley hosts fellow Wench Nicola Cornick, who will be launching her new Scandalous Women of the Ton series.  Nicola will talk about Whisper of Scandal, the first book in this new series.

Ciji Ware: Wicked Company

by Mary Jo

Wicked Company is a delicious historical novel about to be reissued by the ever-percipient Sourcebooks, but I'll start by saying that the author, my pal Ciji Ware, is wickedly good company.  We met at a conference and bonded over publishing horror stories and have been friends ever since. 

Ciji comes from a long line of professional writers.  A California girl, she left her mark on Harvard, and has done far too many other colorful things to begin to describe here.  I'll summarize by saying that she has written gorgeous great romantic historicals that Sourcebooks is reissuing (along with a new novel), that her most  recent non-fiction title, Rightsizing: Simplifying Your Surroundings While Keeping What Matters Most was singled out for distinction by both the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal, and that while staying in her guest room on Nob Hill in San Francisco some years ago, a shelf about the bed rather casually contained an Emmy that she'd won, slightly dented from a fall during an earthquake. <g>

So without further ado--heeeere's Ciji!

 Ciji Ware

I come from a Scottish-American background.  Spending all those years researching my first two historical novels, Island of the Swans and Wicked Company (the new edition of the latter debuts in October, 2010) deeply connected me to my Scottish roots.

Adding to our family’s “Scot-o-mania” is the fact that my husband of 34 years, Tony Cook, is also of Scottish-American derivation.  We learned long after we were married that his family name had been MacCook and that we shared several other Scottish names on our family tree:  Bell, Alexander, McAllister, Hunter and Forester.  We have loved being part of this “community” and for a while we were even members of the MacLeod Scottish Country Dancers!  I mean, talk about living your research….

 
 You can imagine what a joyful day it was when Sourcebooks Landmark (the Illinois publisher reintroducing the Georgette Heyer historicals to a new generation of readers) asked permission to bring out new trade paperback editions of all my books, plus a new one, A Race to Splendor, being published on the 105th anniversary of the cataclysmic 1906 San Francisco earthquake and firestorm.  Splendor is a biographical historical about the first licensed female architect in California, Julia Morgan—and her fictional acolyte, Amelia Hunter Bradshaw--restoring the fabled Fairmont Hotel atop Nob Hill in the aftermath of the early 20th c. disaster that can only remind us of the latest temblor in Haiti.

Alas, poor orphan!

 But to return to the subject of my second novel, Wicked Company…I’m not surprised when I’m told that many readers of my other works may never have heard of it!  Like Island of the Swans, it’s also set in Scotland and England, but in this story, a group of “uppity” eighteenth century women playwrights battle to have their works produced—as women did in real life—at Covent Garden and Drury Lane theatres…and to great success, may I add!
 
But alas, nearly every writer I know has had a book that’s been “orphaned” in the sometimes rough-and-tumble world of “The New Publishing Paradigm”—i.e. the Digital Revolution. The true story of my orphaned historical is that I was changing publishers right at the time the first edition of Wicked Company was to be published back in 1992, and, as often happens, the book was given short shrift by the “old” publisher.  It had a very small print run, virtually no publicity and disappeared with nary a ripple. 

This pained (and irritated) me no end, as I am tremendously proud of this particular historical novel and believe it’s among my best work. Therefore, I cannot deny that I am enjoying a tremendous sense of rather smug satisfaction that my beloved orphan has found a beautiful new home and has been granted a second life, appearing in an honored place in this new Sourcebooks Landmark series—and with a spanking new cover and a complimentary quote from Britain’s Literary Review!

Telling a book by its cover?

What I find so fascinating is the way books are truly categorized by their covers.  Readers obviously take their cues from the images depicted on the front of a book.  Romance readers know what they like and expect, and the same holds true for lovers of historical novels.  If the covers don’t match the content, readers can, rightly, become highly incensed—and I don’t blame them. 

Here are two radically different approaches to the same novel. The cover on the left incorporates the actual 18th c. portrait of the heroine, Jane Maxwell, 4th Duchess of Gordon by George Romney, hanging now in the Scottish National Portrait Gallery.
   
2010 Cover-Sourcebooks Landmark  

Here is the much more romance style cover from Bantam Books

As with Island of the Swans and Wicked Company, my other novels always include a love story, but each one also centers on the question:

“What were the women doing in history?”  

To answer that query, the books by necessity, must be extensively researched as to the role of a very small segment of the population--women who earned their own keep in a day far removed from our own.  The idea that a few, talented and brave females longed for self-expression in various fields that were then the exclusive province of men is also central to the dual story historical/contemporary titles I’ve written:  A Cottage by the Sea, Midnight on Julia Street, and A Light on the Veranda.

From the earliest days of my career, I’ve been fascinated by “professional women” in the 18th and 19th centuries and have chosen to tell the stories of female politicians, artists, writers, and musicians—all based on composites of women who really lived and plied their various crafts for money.  Here is a black-and-white image of a “two-fer,” Eglantine, Lady Wallace (the Duchess of Gordon’s sister and a minor character in Island of the Swans) who played the harp as an avocation and wrote several plays, one of which was eventually produced professionally in London.

(Eglantine, Lady Wallace, above)

The problem was, the books I wrote in the 1980’s and 90’s as full-on historical novels about these “famous-but-forgotten” women of history were often saddled with some God-awful covers during the period when nearly every historical was thought to have a better chance in the marketplace if it emphasized the romance more than the history.  Bless Sourcebooks/Landmark for creating a “look” this time around that matches the contents of my historicals, so that hardcore romance readers can steer clear of them if they so chose, and lovers of historical fiction might give them a try!

 (David and Eva-Maria Garrick by Hogarth)

One of the great delights in researching my up-coming October release of Wicked Company was discovering that David Garrick, the fabled actor-manager of the eighteenth century London Theater Royal, Drury Lane, was what we surely would call in our own age, “a feminist.”

For the nearly thirty years of his sterling career, he championed women artists–not only actresses, but dancers, novelists and playwrights as well. Above, we see in a portrait by Hogarth, Garrick is shown at his desk, no doubt penning one of his own plays which competed with the immortal likes of She Stoops to Conquer.

Garrick was also known for another oddity of his age and ours:  an absolute devotion to his wife, Eva-Maria, pictured behind him as a kind of bright yellow “happy muse.”

In the eighteenth century, with no television programs or motion pictures to steal his audiences–Garrick changed the playbill every few days or so.  He also offered dancing, singing, and other divertissments in a bold attempt to keep his fickle patrons from heading over to his nearby arch rival, Theater Royal, Covent Garden.  
(Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, above)

The constant revolving playbill kept his audiences asking one another, “What’s on tonight at Drury Lane ?” which, in turn, required a never-ending need for new material.

With great respect for the professional life his wife had enjoyed as a premier dancer of her day, Garrick was only too happy to hire talent, whatever its gender, to keep the public’s interest in the kinds of entertainment offered at Drury Lane.  In fact, he encouraged women writers by offering them his services as mentor and editor as they toiled on their plays.

  
Garrick launched a number of women in well-paid careers as “petticoat playwrights,” among them the actress, comedienne Kitty Clive (1711-1785), left. I researched her and other such women in the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, where I held a Readership in 18th c. British-American History.  There I also discovered that Garrick served as cheerleader to one of the playwriting “Hannahs”–Hannah More.  (The other, Hannah Cowley. and Hannah More actually despised each other-–but you will have to read Wicked Company to learn about that…)

When I was first at the Huntington researching this novel,  there was very little published about Garrick’s role in launching these women into professional writing careers.  But soon I was bumping into theater scholars from Ohio, Delaware, and Yale universities and elsewhere, hard at work on such nonfiction efforts as Curtain Call: British and American Women and the Theater 1660-1820, and The Plays of Frances  Sheridan (mother of Richard, of The School for Scandal and The Rivals fame).

Garrick produced one of Frances Sheridan’s works, The Dupe, though, sadly, it found little favor with the sometimes riotous, badly-behaved audiences.

David Garrick died in 1779, and much later, a social club was named in his honor.  When I was in London to tour the rival theaters and to work at the theater museum in Covent Garden itself, I was taken to the club named after my hero as a guest on the only day a woman could enter those portals.  That’s because, of course, The Garrick Club was founded by men, and as far as can be determined, remains for men only.

Ah, the ironies of history…and of writing historical novels as well!

Ciji Ware (seen on the left in duchess costume) is traveling to a high school reunion in Carmel, California today, but she hopes to be able to pop in for comments from her smart phone.  She'll be giving away a copy of Wicked Company to a commenter on the blog between now and midnight Saturday

Ciji Ware enjoys hearing from readers at www.cijiware.com

Mary Jo, happy to have such a multi-talented guest.

Risk and reward

Cara. Andrea here,

Labor Day, that annual September rite of passage, is a signal to many of us that hey, the lazy days of summer are over and it’s time to buckle down to serious work again. But what with looming deadlines and some unexpected travel opportunities, I didn’t have a lot of time for lollygagging these past few months.

September 1 was the due date for Sweet Revenge, my first historical mystery (due out sometime next year with NAL . . . but more on that in a later blog. Suffice it to say it’s set in the Regency, and chocolate plays an important role in the plot.) As this was my first foray into a new genre, I fretted more than usual over the typical writer worries one goes through as a story progresses—is the plot too convoluted? . . . is the pacing too slow? . . . is the heroine too dark?

The manuscript also required a lot more research than usual, and in a subject that is not remotely in my comfort zone. Indeed, I owe a great deal of thanks to a dear lawyer friend who spent a number of hours patiently—very patiently—explaining John Law, the basics of economic theory and  the concept of debt-equity swaps. Lest your eyes start glazing over at this moment, I assure you that the book will not be as boring as you might fear. At least, I hope not.

In any case, the manuscript is Done and  Delivered. Which brings me roundabout to the real topic of my ramblings. Which is Reward.

But allow me to digress a moment longer . . .

In golf, there is a basic concept in designing a course that is called Risk-Reward. In other words, an architect usually provides two ways to play a hole: you can be safe and take a path with fewer hazards, but are unlikely to reap the reward of  making a birdie or eagle (those are Good Things for you non-golfers) Or, you can try a risky shot, like hitting over water, or a deep ravine. If you miss, you’ll really muck up your score, but if you hit it right, you usually get rewarded.

Now, keeping with the golf metaphor, I figure that I took a risk by trying something new, so  deserve a reward. So, despite another deadline coming up in November for my next romance book, I decided to allow myself a few small indulgences last week, which  I  break into the following categories:

Practical Rewards

My drawers were getting to the really scary stages of shove-and-shut, so I decided to treat myself to straightening up the clutter. I cleaned out all my summer things, took them to the attic, and brought down fall stuff. Sweaters, flannel shirts, turtlenecks, corduroys, jeans are now all neatly folded, with arms and legs not twitching to escape when I close the drawer. The closet is weeded out, and I can actually get a hanger off the bar without knocking its neighbor to the floor. And shoes are standing in parade row precision. Okay, it won’t last for long, but it did give me a warm and fuzzy feeling of accomplishment.)

Sweat Rewards

It was a perfect day last Wednesday, cool, crisp, not a cloud in the day. At 2 pm, when during the course of a normal writing day I usually put another loop of duct tape around my legs to keep me in my chair, I played hooky and went to walk 9 holes of golf. It was glorious, even though the seagulls kept giving me the evil eye, as if to say, “why are you out here right now, and not at work?” Exercise is important, and sunshine has Vitamin D, so in reality, it shouldn’t really count as a reward, but merely part of a writer’s training regime. (I do a lot of plotting as I walk.)

Which is why, when all was said and done, I still needed to give myself . . .

The Ultimate Reward   

The new book features a chocolate recipe at the beginning of each chapter (yes, more research, but in that field I consider myself an expert!) So after looking them all over, I picked one to make. Here it is . . .

Chocolate-Coffee Brownies

2 sticks (1/2 lb) unsalted butter
5 oz unsweetened chocolate
2 tablespoons instant-espresso powder
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
5 large eggs
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt

1.  Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Butter and flour a 13- by 9-inch baking pan.
2.  Melt butter and chocolate with espresso powder in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over low heat, whisking until smooth. Remove from heat and cool to lukewarm. Whisk in sugar and vanilla. Whisk in eggs 1 at a time until mixture is glossy and smooth.
3.  Whisk together flour, cinnamon, and salt, then whisk into chocolate mixture.
4.  Spread batter in pan and bake until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out with crumbs adhering, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool completely before cutting.
 
After taking it out of the oven, I let it cool to lukewarm, then cut a large square. Once again, it was the middle of the afternoon, sunlight dancing through the trees. Throwing guilt to the wind, I curled up on the couch with a book. Oh, bliss . . . .

So, how about you? Do you reward yourself for achieving a goal, or doing an onerous task? And what’s your favorite treat? Sweets? Shopping? Museums? (And BTW, if you have a fabulous chocolate recipe, please send it to me at [email protected]. I’m collecting them for Book 2 of the series . . . if yours is included, your name will be mentioned in the acknowledgments!)

All that glistens is not . . . goldfish

Joanna here, talking about English Goldfish. 

You've probably asked yourself, from time to time, if there are any Shakespeare  quotes about goldfish. 

Did Shakespeare say, "That which we call a goldfish, by any other name would be as bright"? 
Or insult some catiff with a, "Thou wimpled, reeling-ripe goldfish-licker!" 

He did not. 
Goldfish didn't make it to England till nearly a century after Shakespeare's death.  We got Shakespearean dogs and cats, camels, carp, marmosets, mackerel, and whales . . . but no goldfish. 

Basically, the goldfish is the carp who made good. 

The carp is a wide-spread, useful and tasty fish that's been domesticated for a couple millennia in China.  While the Chinese were raising carp for the table, they'd noticed a common mutation that threw an orange or gold fish in among the ordinary ones. 

After centuies of noticing that, about a thousand years ago, the Chinese set down to the serious business of breeding these bright-colored fishes as garden ornaments.  The women of the imperial court doubtless engaged in a little friendly rivalry as to the beauty and vigor of their particular line of goldfish.  They'd bring them inside in big porcelain basins to enjoy.  Especially favored courtiers would be invited over to watch the fish swim, this being before TV and Wii.

When trade routes opened in the 1600s, goldfish were freed from their splendid isolation in the Mandarin's garden and went travelling the world.  Japan first.  Then southern Europe, coming in through Portugal.  Then just about everywhere.

The Japanese Kanji characters for goldfish are 'gold' and 'fish'.  'King yo'.  In Dutch, goldfish is goudvis.  French, poisson d'or.  Spanish, carpa dorada.  Goldfish tend to be called 'goldfish'. 

When goldfish hit Europe, it settled a bit of an artistic conundrum.  Chinese  paintings had been arriving in Europe with representations of goldfish.  "Pooh," said some.  "Mythical animals." 

Turned out it wasn't artistic license. 
It was fish.

Legend has it goldfish were brought to France as a present for Madame de Pompadour.  In Russia, Prince Potemkin gave goldfish to Catherine the Great. 

Goldfish were the Tiffany trinket of the Eighteenth Century.

And across southern Europe in those years, it became a tradition for husbands to give their wives a goldfish on the first anniversary as a symbol for prosperous years to come.

 

Here's a pair of impeccable French goldfish from 1800 in an impeccable period fishbowl. 

Goldfish moved into England in 1728, brought over to a Sir Matthew Dekker who handed them out to his friends and neighbors in London. 

They were, when first introduced into England, considered rare and fragile.  As late as 1821, a naturalist could write,

"Great care is necessary to preserve them; for they are extremely delicate, and sensible of the least injuries of the air; a loud noise, such as that of thunder or cannon; a strong smell, a violent shaking of the vessel or a single touch, will often destroy them."

Admittedly, the survival of a goldfish in the care of a ten-year-old boy is somewhat of a crap shoot.  But it's not as bad as that.

The most illustrious patron of goldfish in Georgian England was Horace Walpole, who kept a pond of them at his home, Strawberry Hill, bred them and gifted them about Europe. 

 Said Walpole: 

"I have lately given count Perron some gold-fish, which he has carried in his post-chaise to Turin: he has already carried some before. The Russian minister has asked me for some too, but I doubt their succeeding there . . ."

Goldfish:  Eighteenth Century baksheesh, greasing the wheels of international diplomacy.

 

Walpole tells the story:  

"I Was prevented from finishing my letter yesterday, by what do you think ? By no less magnificent a circumstance than a deluge  . . .  About four arrived such a flood, that we could not see out of the windows: the whole lawn was a lake . . .  I had but just, time to collect two dogs, a couple of sheep, a pair of bantams, and a brace of gold-fish; for, in the haste of my zeal to imitate my ancestor Noah, I forgot that fish would not easily be drowned.

In short, if you chance to spy a little ark with pinnacles sailing towards Jersey, open the sky-light, and you will find some of your acquaintance. You never saw such desolation ! A pigeon brings word that Mabland has fared still worse."

I can see Walpole, retreating from his flooded house with his 'brace of goldfish'.  (ETA:  This is Horace Walpole, not Robert Walpole, as I originally wrote.  Jeesh.  Pay attention, Joanna.)

That's Strawberry Hill somewhat far above, Walpole's magnificent Gothic madness.  To the left and slightly above is an entirely unrelated set of Matisse goldfish.

Elsewhere Walpole says,

"You may get your pond ready as soon as you please; the gold fish swarm: Mr. Bentley carried a dozen to town t'other day in a decanter.
You would be entertained with our fishing; instead of nets and rods and lines and worms, we use nothing but a pail and a basin and a tea-strainer, which I persuade my neighbours is the Chinese method."

It's not impossible your goldfish -- if you have one -- is descended from the adventurous fish of Walpole's pond at Strawberry Hill.

By the Regency, goldfish were a commonplace in the parlor, kept in goldfish  bowls that looked exactly like the modern variety.  Goldfish seem to have made 'unexceptional', affectionate presents.

In Maria Edgeworth's novel, Belinda, goldfish are sent to an invalid. -- "I have  some gold fish, which you know cannot make the least noise: may I send them to her?"

This picture to the right is Kitty Fisher, Eighteenth Century courtesan, with goldfish bowl and cat.

Developing on the courtesan theme, below Kitty is the courtesan Wakamurasaki playing with a goldfish.  

Folks tended to moralize about the whole 'gold' thing.  In Thomas Gray's poem, The Cat and the Gold Fish, the poor cat falls into the goldfish vase:

No master came, no servant stirr'd;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard :
A fav'rite has no friend!

Learn hence, ye fair ones, undeceiv'd,
False steps are hard to be retriev'd,
And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes,
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters gold.

In Regency England, if you weren't lucky enough to be gifted with goldfish, you might buy your own from the itinerant goldfish peddler.  The Regency was a great time for merchandise coming to you instead of t'other way round. 

In the interests of providing a full audio-visual experience, I'm going to wander far afield from the Regency and bring in Debussy's piano piece, Poisson d'or. 

Poisson d'or -- 'Goldfish', of course.   Debussy's work was inspired by this particular lacquer artwork here to the right.  It hung in his study. 

You can listen to Poisson d'or here.  That's Magda Tagliaferro playing, and she's 92.

Debussy used to call the times when inspiration ran dry, his 'factory of  nothingness."

While you're listening to that goldfish music . . .

I became interested in the question of Regency and French Revolutionary goldfish, (allow me to pause while I rid my mind of the image of small revolutionary fish carrying banners,) because, in my book, The Forbidden Rose, my heroine keeps fish.
Well . . . she kept fish.

In this scene her chateau has been burned and looted, and naturally no one thinks about the fish in a situation like this.  It's always the innocent fish that suffer.

***** ***

He stood, looking formidable. Behind him, dawn curved like a shell.

The wide granite pool was white as the moon.  It was cold as the moon when she dipped her hand beneath the surface of the reflection. “Will you tell me what you plan to do with me? I am naturally curious.”

“We’ll talk about it when we’re on the road. I want to get away from here. Soap.” LeBreton laid it beside the towels.  A metal box of soft and greasy-looking soap. “Probably not what you’re used to.”

“It is lovely. Thank you.”

“Don’t get any in the pool.”

Fish were poisoned by soap. She liked it that LeBreton knew that, and cared. It is in such small things that men reveal themselves.

Goldfish came and nibbled at her fingers. She had named them all when she was a child. Moses—because he parted the waters—and Blondine and fat, lazy Rousseau.  Once the noisy Jacobin riffraff took themselves off, Mayor Leclerc would come from the village with tubs to steal her fish for his own pond. He had coveted them for many years.  She hoped he would hurry. They should not be neglected in this fashion.

. . . (and later) . . .

She wore nothing at all. It was strange to be unclothed under the open sky. 

Her reflection looked up at her from the fish basin, more pale than the sky, rippling in the circles that spread where fish came to lip at the surface. The rim of the basin was gritty under her, with little puddles in every unevenness. The wind of the new day scraped her skin like a dull knife. She put her feet in the water. The slippery film of mud at the bottom of the pool crept up between her toes.

Cold. Immeasurably cold.

Quickly, before she lost her courage, she wet half the towel, rubbed water down her arms, over her stomach, hissing every breath in and out. Then up and down her thighs. She washed every scratch, every cut. There was not one of them without a sting. It was not helpful to remind herself that she was the descendent of warriors.

Moses and Rousseau and the other great rulers of the pool held themselves aloof, but many small fish came to nibble at her calves and ankles and the knuckles of her hands with little bites, like kittens.

*****  ***

Author anecdote here:  My aunt had a goldfish named Moses who lived in a big ornamental pond behind her house.  He used to come up to the top and blow bubbles when she rang a bell.  When you write your own books you get to name the fictional goldfish after goldfish you have known personally.

Anyhow . . . While goldfish were swimming happily about in English drawing rooms in 1730-ish, they didn't arrive in America till about a century later.  They showed up sometime in the early years of the Nineteenth Century.  No one knows just when.  Actress Fanny Kemble recounts finding goldfish in a pool at a florists in New York in the 1830s.

Which brings us at last to the vexatious question of goldfish versus koi. 
The cagematch.

Koi to the left.  Goldfish to the right.   

Both goldfish and koi were bred from wild carp populations.  
Goldfish started out in China, a thousand years ago.  Koi arose from a different breed of carp, in Japan, in the mid Nineteenth Century. 

Koi are Johnnies-come-lately.  No Regency koi, alas.

Since I cannot resist talking about koi anyway:  The Japanese word 'koi' means simply 'carp'.  What we call koi the Japanese call 'nishikigoi'.  'Brocaded carp'. 
By chance, the Japanese word, 'koi', is a homophone  for another word that means 'affection' or 'love'.  Koi are therefore symbols of love and friendship in Japan.

In celebration of the goldfishes Blondine, Rousseau and Moses, I'll be giving away a copy of either The Forbidden Rose or the trade paperback of Spymaster's Lady, (your choice,) to one lucky poster in the comment trail.

So -- what pet should the Romance heroine, (or hero,) keep?  Monkey, hedgehog, ferret, hummingbird?  Maybe an attack dog?

Another Honorary Word Wench! Zoë Archer

by Mary Jo Putney

Zoë, thanks so much for visiting the Word Wenches to talk about your Blades of the Rose historical/paranormal/steampunk/action-adventure romance series that started this month with Warrior!  (On the trip to NYC I just made, our editor gave me a copy of the second book of the series, Scoundrel.  I adore Bennett, and it’s set in Greece.  What more can one ask?)

It is a Wenchly custom to give our guests virtual thank you gifts, so the choices are far more colorful and baroque than actual gifts can be.  For you, I’ve chosen this splendid steampunk computer to aid you in future tale telling:

(credit for the computer goes to David S. Zondy.)

As an Honorary Word Wench, you can now list the great esteemed designation “HWW” after your name.  Enjoy!

Mary Jo

Honorary Word Wench - Christina Courtenay!

Christina, thank you for visiting the Word Wenches and sharing your inspirations with us. It’s been fascinating and a great pleasure. It is the tradition for the Wenches to award a virtual “thank you” gift to our guests and so we are sending you this replica Viking longship to celebrate your heritage and the nautical theme of Trade Winds. I hope it will take you wherever you wish to go to gain inspiration for many future books. With the gift also comes the title of HWW (Honorary Word Wench) after your name!

 

(1) Guest Ciji Ware, (2) Winners

CIJI WARE:

This Friday, September 24, author Ciji Ware will be Mary Jo's guest. Ciji writes both fiction and non-fiction, and is an Emmy award winning television producer, journalist, event speaker, and radio host.  Join us on Friday as we welcome Ciji and find out how this busy lady maintains a balanced life!

WINNERS:

We have another batch of winners!  Minna Puustinen won a book from guest Hope Tarr.  Cynthia Owens won a book from Mary Jo for submitting a blog topic suggestion for Ask-a-Wench.  Lesley won a book from guest Zoe Archer.  And last but not least, Kanchb won a book from guest Christina Courtenay. Winners, if you haven't already done so, please send your mailing address to Sherrie.  Thanks, and congratulations, winners!

Football downunder

 Anne here, with a change of pace from books into an earthier and more vigorous pursuit. In the next couple of weeks my hometown will descend  into football frenzy. It happens every year. I'm talking Australian Rules football, not soccer, not rugby, not gridiron or gaelic or any other kind of football. It's a game all our own, born in 1859 in my home town, Melbourne when the first laws of the game were published by the Melbourne Football Club, and even though I'm no big footy fanatic, I think it's interesting. I hope you feel the same by the end of this blog.

It's a fast game, rough, dramatic and gladiatorial.  Click on this link to go to a smorgasbord of images that will give you an idea.

 It's characterized by long kicks that can go 75-100 yards or more. (see the records here.) In fact many a young Australian football player has secured a place in a US university on his ability to kick an oval ball accurately over a long distance.

They also handball the ball (punch it) for long distances. Throwing isn't allowed. The most spectacular part is when they make high leaps to "take a mark" - ie catch the ball.  

The phrase that's gone into football history is the commentator's expression "and the big men fly," for fly they seem to do. And come crashing down afterward.

  You get a free kick if you can take a mark, and over time the players have developed techniques to leap higher and higher, even springboarding on their opponents' backs.

 

This cartoon shows the future of taking marks according to Nicholson, a local cartoonist. LOL

 
 
 For a hundred years it was a Victorian (my state) League, and players from interstate migrated to Melbourne to play here. But as other states formed their own teams and entered the competition, the Victorian Football League became the Australian Football League -- AFL and now it's a more national game. But only 6 of the 16 main clubs are from outside Victoria, so you can see that it's really still a Melbourne game. It's also the most attended and most watched sport in Australia.

It also breeds the most gorgeous footballers -- tall, hunky and long-legged, whereas Rugby guys tend to be chunky and soccer boys whippy -- but then I'm biased.

Tonight the first semi-final of the season is being played between Geelong and Collingwood. The grand final is held on the last Saturday in September and on that Saturday afternoon the streets are quiet. Even people who don't watch football and don't care who wins (like me) will often gather at  friends' places to watch the match, and have a barbecue. 

Like beloved games in other countries, everyone has their own family traditions about football. People have fond memories of being taken as children to matches with their dad and grandad. I have a friend who's been going to the football ever since he can remember, and it's his tradition (with his childhood mates) to try to sneak in without paying — a kind of weekly challenge. It was a sad day when he realized he'd rather just pay than climb the fence and try to outrun the guards. ;)

I didn't grow up in Melbourne, and for me, the football was a distant thing, even though my father was a "one eyed" Collingwood supporter (ie he couldn't see any other team.) My cousins were Geelong supporters, and they used to tape huge blue and white streamers to sticks every Friday night before the match and rain, hail or shine they'd stand behind the goal posts and wave those streamers every time a goal was scored. And if Geelong lost, everyone knew to steer clear of Uncle Tommy.

 

There's a poem about Aussie rules football, Life Cycle, by Bruce Dawe. It's satire mixed with affection, and starts:

When children are born in Victoria
they are wrapped in club-colours, laid in beribboned cots,
having already begun a lifetime's barracking.  

Carn, they cry, Carn … feebly at first
while parents playfully tussle with them
for possession of a rusk: Ah, he's a little Tiger! (And they are …)

Barracking means rooting for (a term that means something different in Australia ;) Carn is a corruption of "come on" so "Carn the Tigers" is cheering on the team of Richmond, whose colors are black and yellow.

And toward the end of the poem...

They will not grow old as those from the more northern States grow old,
for them it will always be three-quarter-time
with the scores level and the wind advantage in the final term,

But the dance forever the same - the elderly still
loyally crying Carn … Carn … (if feebly) unto the very end,
having seen in the six-foot recruit from Eaglehawk their hope of salvation

The whole poem is here if you're interested, but there are a lot of obscure local references you probably won't understand. 

You will, however, I'm sure, understand the whole ritual of the sporting grand final. So what's your favorite sport? Do you share sporting rituals with family or friends? Do you play? Or get sucked into watching it on TV? Or do you seek refuge in a quiet place with a good book? I must admit it's often a book for me, unless I'm with friends, and then I confess, I get sucked right in.

Zoe Archer: Where Indiana Jones meets High Romance

by Mary Jo

 Zoë Archer and I share an editor, the estimable Megan Records, and I discovered Zoë’s writing when Megan asked if I’d consider reading the first book in Zoë’s upcoming series.  Such requests are not made lightly, but Megan thought I’d enjoy Zoë’s writing.

Megan was right.  That’s why she’s an editor. <g>  I loved Zoë’s unique blend of swashbuckling Indiana Jones high adventure, exotic settings, and magic. Given how readers often express the wish for something that hits all the historical romance buttons but adds something fresh and new, I thought Word Wench readers would enjoy meeting an intriguing  new author. 

So—meet Zoë Archer! Welcome to the Word Wenches.  Zoë, please tell us about your Blades of the Rose Quartet.  

ZA:  First, thank you for having me on the Word Wenches!  I’m not exaggerating when I say that you have been one of the biggest influences in my romance writing career, so the fact that I’m even having this conversation with you is surreal.

MJP: <blush>

ZA: Anyway…I’ve been a steadfast romance reader for half of my life, and have witnessed the evolution of the genre from historicals to romantic suspense to paranormals.  But I never truly found the kind of romance that I really wanted—classic high adventure.  Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved stories and films set in far-away places, where a capable, quick-witted hero and a (sadly, oftentimes incompetent) heroine were on a quest, with lots of action and adventure and hints of the paranormal.  I wanted to see romances that had all of these elements, plus a heroine who could hold her own next to the sexy hero.  Much as I tried to find these books, they were either scarce or non-existent.  So I wrote them myself!

Blades of the Rose

ZA: The Blades of the Rose is a secret organization that searches out and protects the world’s magic.  Blades are both men and women, and though the books are set in 1874-1875, the women kick just as much butt as the heroes do, and in a way that isn’t anachronistic. 

Each book is full of action, adventure, magic, steam punk gadgets, danger, and plenty of blistering romance.  I like to describe the books as Indiana Jones with hot sex. Heh. 

Faraway places with strange sounding names

MJP: I was fascinated by the Mongolian setting. Having researched some exotic Asians places myself, I’ve been dying to know how you managed the research for such a remote part of the world.  You certainly made it convincing.  Have you ever been to Mongolia?

ZA:  Sadly, no.  I read books, watched films and did quite a bit of Internet research.  The original reason I wanted Mongolia as a setting was because I wanted to make use of the Gobi Desert.  But the Gobi is just one part of a vast country.  Rolling, grassy steppes make up a huge section of Mongolia, and the more I read about it, the more entranced I became with the country, the landscape, and the people.  Do a quick Google image search for Mongolia and you’ll see just how gorgeous and dramatic the landscape is.  A perfect setting for romance and adventure.

MJP:  Here’s an excerpt for Warrior  Tell us a little about the other books of the quartet.  The hero of the fourth in particular looks interesting. 

ZA:  Each Blades book has a different hero and heroine, with one or the other being a Blade.  The exotic settings don’t end with Mongolia.  Scoundrel is set in Greece and the Aegean, Rebel is set in the Canadian Rockies, and the fourth book, Stranger, is set in England and a secret surprise location that you’ll read about later!

While I love all my heroes, the hero of Stranger is one of my all-time favorites.  Catullus Graves and generations of his family have been making sophisticated and brilliant inventions for the Blades to use out in the field.  He’s basically “Q” in the James Bond films, and that’s where we get the steampunk element—since he doesn’t use magic, just known Victorian science and technology in the design and construction of his devices.  But one of the most unique aspects of Catullus as a hero in a historical romance is that he’s a black Briton. 

It always seemed odd to me that romance protagonists, especially in historical romance, are so ethnically limited.  I really wanted to address the wide variety of experiences and people, particularly given how diverse England truly was and is.  The research I did into the history of black people in Britain was fascinating and truly eye-opening.  It’s seldom explored in the context of romance.  For example, I learned that there were never any anti- miscegenation laws in England, unlike in the United States, which meant it wasn’t illegal for black people to marry white people. 

I also learned that the most common interracial relationships from the 18th century to the 19th century were between black men and white women, since migration patterns and other external forces created a larger proportion of black men to black women in Britain.  And even though England participated in the slave trade until 1833, there was never a policy of institutionalized racism in the country.  That isn’t to say Britain was a paradise of equality, but it was very different from the U.S.  All of this impacts Catullus’s character—though he is, first and foremost, a romance hero, which means he’s clever, skilled…and very sexy.   

MJP:  Any idea why you enjoy this unusual blend of romance, history, and fantasy?

ZA:  Historical romance was my first, and continues to be my best, love.  Yet most of the action/adventure romances were concentrated in the paranormal or romantic suspense subgenres.  I wanted all three!  I think it appeals to me because it is so far removed from my actual experience, and I’d always dreamed about being a spy or some other incredibly cool person, racing around the world, doing incredibly cool things.  The paranormal element seemed a natural fit, since many of the best adventure tales and films contain some kind of magic.  Plus, it raises the stakes and makes everything a little more vital, a little more dangerous.  Aside from writing these books, I’m not a huge risk-taker, so this was vicarious excitement. 

How Zoë became Zoë:

MJP:  Please tell us a bit about your background.  Were you spinning tales in your head ever since you started toddling?

ZA:  Oh, yeah.  I think I started writing stories about five minutes after I learned how to hold a pencil.  I wrote stories in notebooks and then on some early home computers.  On long car trips, I stared out the window and thought up stories.  My parents used to think I’d fallen out of the car, I was so quiet.  Though I went through different career ambition phases during high school and into college and graduate school, it always came back to writing.  I started in a PhD program in Literature, then realized I didn’t want to become an academic.  I finished the program with an MA, and then went on to receive an MFA in Fiction from the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop.  That program is very prestigious, but I think I’m the only IWW graduate to become a romance novelist!   

MJP: I understand that you’re recently contracted for a new trilogy with Kensington.  I love the premise. Can you tell us something about it?

ZA:  The series is called The Hellraisers, and I love, love, love it!  The log line is that a group of 18th century rakes inadvertently release the Devil from his prison and literally raise hell.  It’s quite a bit darker than the Blades Series, but I’m having a blast writing it.  Basically, my heroes are the villains, and it’s up to the heroines not only to save the Hellraisers’ souls, but also the world.  Also, these books are going to be very, very sexy.  You could almost call them historical urban fantasy romance.  The first book is currently titled DEVIL’S KISS and is scheduled for a December 2011 release. 

MJP:  Zoë has generously offer a free copy of Warrior, first of the Blades of the Rose books, to someone who leaves a comment between now and midnight Friday.  So this is your chance to learn more about her unusual stories!

Many thanks for visiting the Wenches, Zoë!

Mary Jo

Setting Sail with Christina Courtenay!

Hello, Nicola here, and today it is my very great pleasure to welcome Christina Courtenay to the Word Wenches. Christina is a historical author who writes for Choc Lit (tagline: where heroes are like chocolate - irresistible!) and her debut novel Trade Winds is out this month. Christina is a winner of the prestigious Elizabeth Goudge Trophy for her short story "Cavalier Treatment" which was published in Solander, the magazine of the Historical Novel Society, in 2002, and is also a past winner of the Katie Fforde Bursary for authors. She has also written a number of novellas.

Trade Winds is a historical romance set in Sweden and China. It's loosely based on the Swedish East India Company's first journey to the Far East in 1732 and is a story full of passion and adventure. I loved the unusual background and true to Choc Lit's promise, the Scottish hero, Killian, is indeed irresistible! Here Christina talks about her inspiration for the book:

"A lot of authors find inspiration for their stories in old houses or specific places. With me, however, the trigger for my debut novel Trade Winds was a ship. The sailing ship Gotheborg, to be precise. An exact replica of a vessel that had once sailed to the Far East on behalf of the Swedish East India Company (the SOIC) it happened to dock at Canary Wharf in London for a couple of weeks during the spring of 2007.  Being half-Swedish and also curious, I decided to go and have a look. What I found fascinated me so much that I immediately began to think: "What if..."

Who would sail halfway around the world in such a relatively small ship? How did they put up with living in cramped conditions for months on end and facing the terrors of the unknown? What were the odds of surviving and how long did it take? As I began to read up on the subject, I couldn't help admiring these courageous men and wondering how on earth they coped. And I had the perfect basis for a historical romance. The story began to take shape in my head as I stood on the deck of the Gotheborg, the ugly modern buildings around me fading away as I imagined myself nearly three hundred years back in time and out on the vast ocean. (Just as well it wasn't for real, though, as I'm probably the worst sailor ever!)

I did some research on the SOIC and it turns out that to start with, a lot of their employees were either Scotsmen or Englishmen, not Swedes as I had thought. When the SOIC was formed in 1731 the Swedes didn't have much knowledge of trading with the Far East but of course the Scots and English did. One of the Company's first directors was a man called Colin Campbell and he also decided to act as their first Supercargo (the person in charge of the business part of the trading expedition) in order to make sure the company had a good start. He succeeded and thanks to him the SOIC's first venture was a huge success.

I decided that my hero, Scotsman Killian Kinross, who had come to Gothenburg to make his fortune, had to go on that first journey with Colin. It seemed like an opportunity he simply couldn't miss. Add to that a Swedish heroine, also in need of money but for different reasons, and I had a great excuse for throwing them together. With profits from Far East ventures as high as tenfold on any investment, it made perfect sense for them both to get involved with the SOIC. From there it was only a short step to the conclusion that they would do even better if they joined forces...

In order to make Killian's experience as authentic as possible, I studied the journal Colin Campbell kept during the voyage (which had been published in book form). I also went to Gothenburg to have a look around. At the City Museum there the archivists keep a large collection of artefacts and journals donated by former SOIC employees. They helped me find the most relevant research material and were extremely welcoming.

Walking around the town helped as well. Although it has obviously changed a lot since the 18th century, the basic layout is the same and with the help of an old street map, I was able to get my bearings. I hope I have managed to portray it accurately in my novel.

All in all, writing Trade Winds taught me so much that I didn't know and was a journey in itself, which I really enjoyed. I'm now working on the sequel, which is set in Scotland, but that's another story altogether..."

Here is a blurb for the book and an excerpt:

It's 1732 in Gothenburg, Sweden, and strong-willed merchant's daughter Jess van Sandt knows only too well that it's a man's world. She believes she is being swindled out of her inheritance by her stepfather, and she's determined to stop it. When help arrives in the unlikely form of Scotsman Killian Kinross, Jess finds herself both intrigued and infuriated by him...

"Jess walked out of her stepfather's study with her head held high. As always she closed the door behind her as quietly as she could, instead of slamming it hard the way she'd like to do. Gritting her teeth, she ran towards the stairs, only to barrel straight into someone who was just coming in from the hall.

"Ooof! I beg your pardon!"

Disconcerted, she took a step back and was about to apologise again, but as she looked up the words died on her lips. In front of her stood the handsomest man she had ever seen and she couldn't do anything except stare at him for a moment. He had shining dark auburn hair, pulled back into an untidy queue, cornflower-blue eyes surrounded by sweeping black lashes, and impossibly perfect features.  She blinked and wondered if he was real. Perhaps he was one of the Archangels spoken of in the Bible? She shook herself mentally. What a ridiculous thought.

‘No, it is I who should apologise. Miss Fergusson, is it?’ He bowed. ‘Killian Kinross at your service. I’ve come to see your father and was told to wait over there.’ He indicated a chair obviously placed for this purpose against the wall outside Robert’s study. ‘I should have looked before entering this hallway. My mistake.’

 

‘He is not my father,’ she hissed, reminded again of the recent encounter and ignoring the rest of the man’s sentence. ‘He is the devil reincarnated.’ This was perhaps a gross exaggeration, but saying the words out loud gave vent to her pent-up frustration and made her feel a whole lot better.

 

Mr Kinross raised his brows a fraction and a slow smile spread over his features. Jess almost gasped as the effect of it was like a physical blow to her solar plexus. ‘Riled you, has he?’ he enquired with amusement in his voice. ‘Ah, but of course, he’s related to my grandfather. Stands to reason.’

 

Jess didn’t follow the logic of this statement. In fact, she had trouble thinking coherently at all with that devastating smile dazzling her, but she closed her eyes and gathered what few wits she had left. ‘I don’t wish to discuss it. Good day to you, Mr Kinross.’

 

And with that parting shot, she stepped around him and ran up the stairs, lifting her skirts to take the steps an unladylike two at a time. Glancing down from the first floor landing, she saw him staring after her with a thoughtful look on his face. When he noticed her pause, he smiled again and bowed in a lazy, almost insolent salute.

 

Jess ignored him and continued upstairs. She’d had more than enough of men to last her a lifetime and she wanted nothing to do with any of them, handsome or not.”

 

The first two chapters are available on the Choc Lit website and on Christina’s website where you can also read much more information about her fascinating research.

 

Christina is giving away a copy of Trade Winds to one lucky commenter. Now over to you:

Christina’s inspiration for writing Trade Winds came from a ship. Have you ever been inspired to do something – decorate a house, write a book, or anything else - by something really strange or different?

Guests Christina Courtenay & Zoe Archer

Good morning!  Happy Grandparents Day to those of you in the U.S. 

We have two exciting guests this coming week.  On Monday, September 13, Nicola hosts guest Christina Courtenay.  Christina's book. Trade Winds, is a historical romance set in Sweden and China.  It is loosely based on the Swedish East India Company.

Then on Wednesday, September 15, Mary Jo hosts author Zoe Archer.  Zoe's current Blades of the Rose series starts this month with Warrior, a Victorian adventure/ romance set in Mongolia.  (The next 3 books in the series will be released in October, November, and December)

Join us this week and travel to Sweden, China, and Mongolia (virtually, of course).  Leave a comment, and be eligible to win a book!

And then stay tuned, because we have several more guests this month . . .

Aske Hall

Here's Jo, talking about Aske Hall in Yorkshire. I have a particular reason, which I'll explain at the end.

There are, of course, gentry and aristocratic homes all over England and most don't come to our attention unless something special crops up. This is especially true when the house isn't open to the public, as is the case with Aske Hall.

There's an extensive article on the history of the house here so I won't go into it, but it's interesting that the original was constructed in the 1760s, the time of my Georgian romances, so parts represent a typical Georgian country house, even if it has undergone substantial changes. What's more, it illustrates one type of Georgian landowner.

 

To begin with, the man who built this house was a self-made man. "The son of an Edinburgh Baillie, Dundas was educated at the High School. He made his fortune through stock speculation and by provisioning the British army, under the Duke of Cumberland, during their campaign against the Jacobites (1745-6) and in Flanders during the Seven Years War (1756 - 1763). Dundas was created a Baronet in 1762.

"http://www.scottish-places.info/people/famousfirst986.html

Of course he then wanted a country seat, and bought the Aske Estate.

This picture is of  Sir Lawrence Dundas at Aske Hall with his daughter.

This is from the Aske Hall site above.

"Sir Lawrence Dundas Bt. (that means  baronet, an inheritable knighthood) bought the Aske Estate from Lord Holderness in 1763 for £45,000 and the imposing Hall has remained the family seat ever since. Sir Lawrence was a hugely ambitious and successful man and one of the reasons he bought Aske was that the estate included the pocket borough of Richmond and he was therefore able to nominate the MP."

(A pocket borough was one that was in someone's pocket -- ie he got to dictate who became the MP. This was a very common situation before Parliamentary reform in the 19th century. I'm sure Rothgar has a pocket-full of them.)

"He subsequently branched out into banking, property (he developed Grangemouth in 1777) and was a major backer of the Forth & Clyde Canal."

Then we can see how the family rises.

Sir Lawrence, the baillie's son (1712-1781) never managed to become a peer, but his son

Thomas(1741 to 1820) made an excellent marriage to Lady Charlotte FitzWilliam,  daughter of the 3rd Earl Fitzwilliam, and that moved the family up the social scale a few more steps. The marriage took place in 1764, as Thomas's father was building Aske Hall, and Thomas was already living the part as we can see from this portrait -- the very image of a Georgian gentleman enjoying the obligatory Grand Tour. 

In 1794 Thomas became Baron Dundas of Aske -- ie Lord Dundas.

He was succeeded by his eldest son Lawrence (1766-1839) who became second Lord Dundas at the age of 56. In return for providing financial assistance to the Duke & Duchess of Kent,  the future Queen Victoria's parents,  Lawrence was created the 1st Earl of Zetland in 1838. In 1892, the title became a marquessate.

There's another page about the family here.

So now, my connection to all this. Very slight, I assure you!

In the 1930s, my father in law was a mechanic/chaffeur at Aske Hall, and we have the photographs to prove it. He didn't talk much about it, and we weren't sensible enough to question him. (Note to all, get your elderly relatives to talk about their lives, if possibly recording it. You never know when you'll want to know, and even everyday lives have historical interest.)

Because of this, we drove to it a few years back, and it's admirably accessible. One can drive close to the house and there's a public footpath through the part that runs close to the house. Now we've taken the advantage of one of the rare open days to visit and learn more. It is a fascinating house still with many Georgian interiors, including a room designed by Capability Brown. I learned something there. I wasn't aware he did anything other than gardens and landscapes.

 There is also a portrait of a quite handsome young man that turned out to be, no less, the future Prince Regent when her was still good looking enough to be called "Florizel."

My next book will be An Unwilling Countess (March 2011), set in Yorkshire. I decided to base Keynings, the hero's home, on Aske Hall.Of course, Aske Hall has changed since 1765, and by the time I'd finished meddling it's a different place in a slightly different location, but that was the seed of it.

Does anything about this family history surprise you? Does this picture of 18th century life fit the world of historical fiction? I find that often the self-made hero is portrayed as slightly coarse and perhaps even proud of it and disdainful of the rich and titled, whereas Sir Lawrence appears to have had good taste and certainly made every attempt to fit in with the aristocratic world -- and suceeded.

Cheers,

Jo

Slanguage

Pat here:

Since so many of us enjoy playing with words, I’ve been keeping track of the words I’ve thrown out of the current WIP. For those of you who think a writer pours a story from her fingers directly onto the page—this might be a spoiler. My first outpouring of story is in draft mode, rather like an artist sketching on canvas before adding paint. Anything and everything may be erased as I go back and color in the details. Language is particularly susceptible for culling since I dash out the first word that remotely says what I need to move the story forward, then have to go back and craft real sentences with better word choices.

Aside from the fact that my crazed typing will frequently substitute homonyms ( two words pronounced  or spelled the same way but with different meanings) for the words I  really mean, I’m likely to toss in slanguage all my own. These words are frequently archaic to today’s vocabularies but anachronistic for the Regency, like bejeebers and hightail. They sound old, so my addled mind accepts them and moves on. If a word just sounds particularly English, like gobsmacked, my characters are quite apt to emit it, unless I smack them down and correct their…ahem, English.

Unfortunately, phrases like “making love” or “having sex” or even something so innocent as “a tad” or “not to worry” don’t leap out and smack the modern reader as anachronistic, even though they are.  So they’re a tad hard to spot.

Maybe we all ought to talk with our hands. (Sign to left means love or I love you)  Slang might be particular to its time period, but words like pretty, cute, handsome, and sophisticated are hard to juggle.  I’m not likely to call a Regency heroine cute, because it would more likely be an insult—as in too clever for her own good.  The modern reader isn't likely to grasp that .  Handsome, however, might mean appropriate or large, as in a handsome fortune. That it also could mean a large and/or graceful form, as in a handsome man, just confuses the issue, but I think the modern reader can work that one out based on the sentence. Sophisticated, on the other hand, (hear me sigh) was not generally a compliment. The original meaning was to adulterate, to deceptively modify. I assume it must have gone on to mean a person who could speak circles around an innocent and confuse their thinking, then progressed on to mean that person was more culturally adept. So whether or not one is considered a sophisticate in the Regency era might or might not be a good thing. I don’t care. I want my heroes to be worldly, sophisticated men. Take that any way you like it. I just won't introduce a character into a sophisticated room unless my brain is turned off. Which it could be.

Anyone interested in a great Regency thesaurus needs to see Emily Hendrickson’s compilation (http://www.emilyhendrickson.com/referencebook.html). I have it, but that doesn’t mean the word I want is there, because of the bad habit mentioned above. It’s a bit hard to find bejeebers in any thesaurus, much less one that translates to the Regency era.                 

Besides Rogets and Emily’s compilations, I use several online references, including http://onlineslangdictionary.com/ in my attempts to add crutches to my feeble memory and track dates of origin. Eric Partridge has some excellent dictionaries from the time period, my favorite is the Dictionary of Catch Phrases, but again, if I don’t know the word I want, it’s pretty hard to find it. 

And just because he’s so much fun to read, John Dierdorf’s site  http://www.io.com/~dierdorf/words.html  is bookmarked in my reference file (scroll down for index that leads to words discussed). Hats off to one of his blogs for adding the cute, pretty, sophisticated conundrum to my knowledge.

Now that I've totally crossed your eyes and dotted your tees, are you going to go back and re-read all your Regencies for all the no-no's? Or just laugh when you discover them because you know better than the author?

AAW: Writing through pain

Since this month’s Ask A Wench involves working, Labor Day seemed like a good time to post it.  This question was posed by Cynthia Owens, and it's a serious topic with serious replies:

“I'd like to know how all of you manage to write during difficult times. I stopped writing for several months after my father died, and just recently, when my mom had a stroke, I took some time off too. And yet sometimes, I find writing to be therapeutic. How about the Wenches?”

Pat Rice: 

Journaling helped me survive a dysfunctional childhood. Pouring my creativity into stories prevented me from wasting it on unappreciative teachers. Researching helped me through the lonely hours when my husband was overseas. And without occupying my mind creating characters and stories, I would never have survived the years of watching my mother fight cancer. Writing is not only therapeutic, but cathartic. We can pour our loneliness, our angers, our distress into the words on the page.  Beats whining any day!

Anne Gracie: 

This is a tough one. I think sometimes you have to acknowledge that life will get in the way of writing, though it takes everyone differently. In the last few years I've watched first my father crumble and die, and then my mother, and in each case, it affected my writing differently. When Dad started dying, I simply stopped writing.  Afterwards, I sat down and wrote The Perfect Rake — a funny, lighthearted story (for the most part) and it just flowed out of me as if a dam had broken.

When my mother was dying, my desire to write dried up again but I was under contract and had to force myself. I'd started a book but it was turning grim and bleak in tone and it was a struggle, so with my editor's permission, I put it aside.  I started writing a different book soon after my mother died, and it ended up sweet and heartwarming. Now I'm back to the book I put aside, starting it again from a different angle, and it's going much better.

However, while I might not have been writing fiction through the worst of times, I still wrote. I wrote emails all the time — I've always been a prolific letter writer.  I also wrote in a journal, the first time I'd ever successfully kept anything resembling a diary, though it wasn't regular, and it was a wonderful thing to do.  I am now a committed journal-keeper.

The other thing I discovered through keeping a journal, is how good writing by hand is for my muse. I now do a lot more handwriting than I used to. If a scene is difficult or not flowing, I'll take myself away from the computer (and its easy distractions) and head for a quiet place with pen and notebook. I'll close my eyes, think about the scene to come, visualize it and start writing by hand. Even when I wasn't writing a novel, I still wrote about things I'd noticed, or played with painting word pictures. That's another thing I intend to continue on a regular basis.

Susan King:

I've written through painful times and I've written through happy times, too, and much prefer happy! But there is something definitely therapeutic about writing during truly stressful times. Over the years that I've been published, I've experienced tragic family deaths, lay offs, major surgery myself... and of course lots of smaller troubles in the background or foreground of life.

I've raised three sons while writing twenty novels. I've had a house full of sick kids, kids home all day for snow or summer days, I've had more than one roaring case of the flu myself, and so on. Yet no matter what was going on, there were always chapters to write and often deadlines to meet. Whether it was big stress and lesser bumps in the road, having those deadlines forced me to focus no matter what and produce something. And that provides an escape like no other. When I'm sick, for instance, I usually feel a little better if I write than if I don't.

But I don't often use my published writing to express my own emotions, though some do. It does help relieve stress. Sometimes I've written into the books some of the tougher things that I've experienced, but not often. Once or twice I have rewritten the script on something that happened to me, but mostly I prefer to move on, and so I do, through characters whose lives are very different from my own at the time.

While the happier times are a LOT more fun and I'm a more relaxed writer then...that can be distracting in its own way, too. When things are going really well, I don't want to go to my office to shut the door and think only about my characters and my fiction. I might be enjoying time with my family or with friends, I might be traveling -- and yet I still have to make myself sit down and write. Somehow all the books get written, and we can find ourselves stronger for it, perhaps even better writers, with another chapter or two or another book tucked away despite all.  

Nicola Cornick:

The really short answer from me is "I can't!" The longer and more civil answer is:
 
I find it extremely hard to keep writing during difficult times. I do see writing as therapeutic sometimes; if I am tired or low or need a break I take great pleasure in writing something different, a short descriptive piece about the countryside perhaps, or an article of non-fiction history. That always lifts my spirits and takes me away from everyday problems. When it comes to big, stressful situations, though, I do find that they intrude too much into my writing process to be ignored. Then I slow down to a snail's pace or, if things are really bad, stop altogether, which can be a problem with my deadlines. When I was younger I think I found it easier to lose myself in my writing. These days I find it easier to lose myself in someone else's. Reading is a great solace to me in difficult times.

Joanna Bourne:

I can write nonfiction under just about any conditions.  The simplicity and order is a comfort to me.  I set facts and conclusions in a logical sequence, and I've built a structure out of chaos.  It's satisfying.  I suppose writing nonfiction is a bit like cleaning the house.  When I'm troubled, my kitchen floors are very clean. 

Now, fiction is a whole 'nother writing beast. 

As a reader, I flee to fiction when I can't face reality.  I dive into the work of some favorite author and 'pull the covers up' -- so to speak -- and forget the real world for a while.

But I can't write fiction when I'm in turmoil.  I need a peaceful, undistracted mind to walk into my fictive world and hear my characters speak.  

Mary Jo Putney:

As you can see, responses ranged from having difficult circumstances stop a writer in her tracks, to writing as therapeutic and an essential escape.  The prolific romance author Kasey Michaels once told a friend of mine that she wrote her first book, a humorous traditional Regency, when one of her small sons was dying of kidney failure.  (For the record, he didn’t die.  Credit goes to God, modern medicine, and an incredibly devoted and effective mother.)

I think any individual’s reaction might vary depending on the nature of the trouble.  If a person’s mother is dying and lives a long way off and you were never close and you have a deadline, you might lose little if any writing time.  If your spouse or a child is critically ill and you’re spending every available moment at the hospital, you’ll probably be lucky to keep up with your e-mail. 

Suffering physical pain is a major variation of this.  Back problems, wrist and hand problems, chronic fatigue syndrome—any kind of serious health problem can come between you and your work. 

There are no right or wrong answers here.  We do what we must.  Creativity is a delicate function, more easily derailed by disaster than more basic life requirements.  If the Muse shuts down when life stresses take over, so be it.  She’ll be back when life calms down. 

In my experience, it’s best to concentrate on what’s essential, let the rest go, and don’t blame yourself for not being superwoman.  And if you’re friends and family ask what they can do to help—take them up on the offer! 

Most people love to help if they know what to do.  Be specific, and the chances are they’ll come through.  If you need a few hours of respite, ask for someone to take over for an afternoon.  If you’re too busy to cook, ask how they are at casseroles.  If you need someone to do some driving for you, chances are someone will be more than willing.

I like to help people.  Most people also like to help others.  I consider it very gracious to allow other people to help me, which will make them feel good.  <g>  A win/win.

Though the focus here has been on writing, the question is much broader. How do you cope when life goes off the rails?  What kind of help would you like?  Just about everyone goes through periods when life gets out of control.  Just knowing that we’re not alone is a big help. 

This is a topic well worth sharing our thoughts, and I’d like to know what you think.

And Cynthia, you get a copy of one of my books for asking a question used on the blog.

Mary Jo, adding a special thanks to Joanna Bourne for supplying the picture of the cheetah chewing her tail.  I know exactly how that feels!

Winners

We have two new winners!  Kat has won the first two books in Anne Stuart's The House of Rohan trilogy. 

And because Jen Wyatt's comment made Anne laugh, she decided to award a bonus prize to Jen. 

Ladies, if you will send your mailing address to me, Sherrie, I'll forward them to Anne so that she can send your books.  Congratulations, winners!

Wales-Watching

Cara/Andrea here, inviting you to come on another peregrination . . .

Between the glittering elegance of London’s ballrooms, the bubbling charms of Bath’s Pump Room and the rugged splendor of Scotland’s Highlands, Wales—and the Welsh—tend to get overlooked in historical romance stories. I’m not sure why bucks of the ton and men in kilts get all the attention, for after a recent visit to the country, I came away utterly . . . enchanted!

Really, how can one not fall in love with a country that features Y Ddraig Goch—the Red Dragon—on its national flag. Dragons play a big role in Welsh mythology. The Historia Brittonum, which dates to around 820, contains the first written reference of the fanciful beast as the symbol of Wales. Ancient tradition then has it spreading its wings as the battle standard of King Arthur and other noble Celtic leaders.

The Arthurian legends are part of the heart and soul of Welsh heritage. Camelot and the Round Table is said to have existed in the present-day town of Caerleon, which also was headquarters of the Second Legion Augusta, the Roman force which occupied this part of Britannia  from around 75 to 300 AD. Today, you can explore the impressive ruins of the bath complex built by the soldiers, and walk around a circular amphitheater built into the verdant meadows.

It was Geoffrey of Monmouth, who in the 12th century wrote the first detailed accounts of the fabled ruler and his exploits. Arthur, Uther Pendragon, Merlin, Mordred—his Historia Regum Britanniæ, a chronicle of the lives of Britain’s rulers, served as inspiration for centuries of Welsh bards. (Geoffrey didn’t mention Camelot. That embellishment to the story originated in the French courtly romances of Chretien de Troyes.)

These core tales of Arthur are also part of one of the most famous historic Welsh literary works—The Mabinogian. Inspired by folklore, myth and history, these collection of tales were part of the rich oral tradition of storytelling before being written down in the 13th century. They were first translated from Welsh into English in  the early 1800s by Lady Charlotte Guest, daughter of the 9th Earl of Lindsey , who worked from two late medieval manuscripts—the Red Book of Hergest and the White Book of Rhydderch. (Lady Charlotte traveled extensively in Europe after the death of her Welsh husband, and was an avis art collector. She bequeathed a wonderful ceramics collection to the V&A Museum, and an assortment of fans, playing cards and board games to the British Museum.)

An aura of mystery and magic pervade these imaginative tales—which I’ve been told shouldn’t be surprising, as  the Welsh are a people who love language, both written and spoken. Celts are renowned for their storytelling traditions, so poetry and song are deeply rooted in their culture. To this day, it’s given voice in a variety of artistic expression, both in English and in their wonderfully tongue-twisting native language. (Like the Scots and the Irish, the Welsh have an uneasy history with England. Conflict has colored the past centuries, both before and after the first Act of Union in 1536 joined Wales to its larger neighbor . . . but that is a subject for another time.)

Inspiration is easy to understand when you are in Wales. It is a small land of immense and scenic natural beauty—craggy coastline, sandy beaches, rolling meadows, majestic mountains. Though it’s only 8,00 square miles in size (roughly the size of Massachusetts) it features a great variety of terrain, from the bucolic pastures of the Wye Valley in the southeast to the rugged Snowdon Mountain range in the northwest. (Sir Edmund Hilary trained in Wales for his famous ascent of Mt. Everest.)

For those of us who love history, Wales is equally alluring. Over 600 castles dot its hilltops and peaks, including Caerphilly, one of the largest in all of Europe, Castell Coch, built in the 19th century by the Marquess of Bute, and Caernarfon, a splendid Medieval fortress built by Edward I, where the present-day Charles was crowned Prince of Wales. There is also a wealth of fascinating museums and libraries to explore. Or you can meander through the winding country roads, visiting places like Caerfyrddin, said to be the birthplace of Merlin, and Llyn y Fan Fach, a remote lake in the Black Mountains which has its very own Lady of the Lake legend.

And then there is Hay-on-Wye, a tiny town on the English border that is a must-see for anyone who loves the printed page. World famous for it antiquarian, specialty and secondhand bookshops—there are over 30 for a population of 1500—Hay-on-Wye holds an annual festival in late spring that draws people from all over the globe for author readings, panel discussions, and a general celebration of literature.  But even if you can’t make it for that week, the stores are open year-round, as is a large traditional market on Thursdays, which features antiques, crafts, flowers, homebaked goods and local foods.

Speaking of foods, all the wonderful things to see and do require a goodly amount energy. So it’s fortunate that Welsh food is so delicious. Make sure to stop often at one of the many charming tea shops. Welsh cakes, a sort-of flat scone dusted with sugar, and bara brith, a fruit cake laced with raisins and walnuts, are two of my favorite snacks. Salt marsh lamb and Usk Valley beef win culinary kudos. Oh, and don’t get me started on the amazing array of local artisanal cheeses. Teifi Celtic Promise, Cenarth Perl Las, Gorwydd Caerphilly . . . needless to say, I came home packing a few extra pounds—alas, on my person, not in my suitcase!

This short tour does not nearly do justice to the magical kingdom that is Wales. (If you've never been to this part of Great Britain, I heartily recommend a visit!) Like Celtic bards of old, I could wax poetic for hours describing the hauntingly beautiful legends and landscapes. However, I shall leave you with just a last, short word. I dearly love my traditional British historical heroes—a London Corinthian, with gleaming Hessians and a perfectly tied Trone d’Amour still makes my heart go pitter-pat. And a Highlander with kilt and claymore is a sight to make any lady swoon. But after meeting a number of black-haired, blue-eyed Welshmen, with the lilt of laughter and poetry in their voices, I’m already imagining a hero for my new trilogy. His name is Gruffydd . . .or Rhys . . . or Ioan . . . (shown here is Welshman Ioan (Horatio Hornblower) Gruffudd as Lancelot. Need I say more?)

Now, how about you? Are you familiar with Wales and its legends? Did you love the stories of King Arthur and the Round Table as much as I did as a child? Or did you have a favorite tale or myth from another country. (My mother was Swiss, so I also grew up knowing all about William Tell and his famous apple!)

Wench Classic: The First Romance

Word Wenches has been going strong for over four years (!), which means a LOT of posts by now for each Wench. Sometimes we go through the archives and find something we'd like to bring out again - kind of like discovering a favorite old sweater in the back of the closet that you forgot you had!
So I've picked one and spiffed it up a little ...

The First Romance

Susan here!

Do you remember the first romance you ever read? Did you know at the time that it was a romance, either romance genre or something with strong romantic elements? Romance Writers of America defines a romance novel in this way: "Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying and optimistic ending."

What was the first novel you ever read that met these criteria? More specifically, what was the first romance novel you ever read, even if you didn't know it qualified at the time--and how did it shape your reading tastes later in life?

I used to think that the first romance I ever read was when I was in grad school, and happened to be confined to bedrest for a while with nothing else to do. A well-meaning friend brought me a tattered copy of The Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen Woodiwiss, because I was in medieval studies. It was an addictive, life-changing reading experience. I searched out more like it. I hid my growing reading habit for a while, too, not sure I could own up to it in the hallowed halls of the academic institution where I otherwise delved into very different romances—the medieval and epic sort, the kind written in Middle English or medieval French.

Yet I had loved reading fiction since childhood, and didn't realize until later that I had cut my reading (and writing) teeth on romance novels—and romantic fiction--long before The Wolf and the Dove found me. I haunted libraries as a kid, toting out armloads of books on a weekly basis … I remember vividly the wonderful smell of that old small-town library–the mingled scents of books, of paper and binding leather, of wooden floors, marble, brass. It’s a scent that newer libraries don’t seem to have, an aged, solid smell that’s part materials and part magic, that holds promise and enchantment and freedom to learn and explore.

It was in that old library that I first began reading romantic stories, like Elizabeth George Speare's The Witch of Blackbird Pond…Little Women and the romantic thread with Jo March and her Professor Bhaer … and Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester:

    "..Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?"

I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still. "Because," he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you--especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you,--you'd forget me."
"That I NEVER should, sir: you know--"  Impossible to proceed.

>THUD<  Ah...a little melodramatic and OTT for us today, yet its romantic power runs very deep, and catches a romantic soul all unaware, and for life.

Later I discovered Mary Stewart, Victoria Holt, Phyllis Whitney and got hooked on romantic suspense and gothic romance. I gobbled everything I could find from Daphne Du Maurier to Elizabeth Peters, and then began to munch my way through historicals, such as medievals by Rosemary Hawley Jarman, and Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind (which I read four times in high school). I read Jane Eyre again … and then discovered Anya Seton. If she or Mary Stewart had left grocery lists around somewhere, I would have pounced upon them as poetry.

But noooooo, I never read romance until The Wolf and the Dove. Yet since childhood I had been reading rich, romantic, heart-rending, classic romantic novels, stories that were emotional and exciting, often beautiful written and totally captivating. I was not only becoming a romance reader, I was becoming a romance writer. And I thought I was headed for art school and then academia ….

 
What I savored in those books was that feeling of having my heart seem to turn within me, that emotional wrench, that sense of emotional satisfaction and uplifting emotional reward. And then I found that all those feelings and more were in this thick, battered paperback of The Wolf and the Dove--  along with some crazymaking exasperation (how could she fall for such a jerk? how could he be such a pig, and she so stupid? Ah, but I wanted it to all work out in the end, and it did, and somehow I forgave their stupid but sensual pigheadedness and I wanted more, more, more!)

So I went from there to so many wonderful historical romances (historical in particular!) that I could barely count them. I had always wanted to write, had lots of stories in my head and had tried my hand at it in different ways, and I began to feel a true urge to write stories that would capture the feelings and the excitement that reading gave me. 

 
What I found was that over the years of “not” reading romance, I had absorbed the sensibilities of romance thoroughly. I had long been an addict and afficionado, and I had come to understand the forms and features of the genre without realizing it. And what I learned now infuses, I hope, everything I write, whether it's romance fiction or historical fiction with a touch of romance.

I go back now and then to some of the same early reads, and I still get a renewed sense of that early wonder and anticipation – Jane Eyre, Rebecca, anything by Mary Stewart. The writing, too, is infinitely lovely and the dated quality has timeless charm.

Where did you start reading romance? Was it Austen and Heyer, or Holt and Stewart, was it Jane Eyre and Little Women, or something else? And how have those reading patterns influenced your choices now?

~Susan